Murder in Bollywood Page 12

  ‘Don’t blame yourself for not being able to remember the details. It’s very natural in such cases for the brain to block out certain memories that it considers painful or traumatic. The important thing is that you managed to get out of there alive. But was there anything before the attack that you were able to notice? Maybe there was something that caught your eye?’ Hoshiyar asked hopefully.

  ‘I am sorry, Inspector saheb, but I can’t think of anything. It was almost as if I wasn’t dealing with a man, but with a ghost, who could see me in the dark just fine, while I couldn’t even get a look at his face. But the thing that confuses me the most is why did he come after me? I can understand him killing my foster parents, because they were horrible, two-faced folk, who harmed a lot of people during their time on earth. But I am just a regular teenager, who at best can be classified as mildly irritating, which surely isn’t sufficient reason to kill.’

  ‘I can assure you, Rohan, that whoever this killer is doesn’t want you dead because he finds you marginally irksome. It is my belief that he has chosen you as his next victim, because for some reason, he feels threatened by you,’ Hoshiyar revealed.

  ‘The killer feels threatened by me? But that’s ridiculous. How can I hurt him in any way?’ Rohan asked incredulously.

  ‘Well, obviously, you know something important and the killer is afraid that you’ll talk to the police. So if you thought that keeping quiet is going to keep you safe, you better rethink that strategy, because although silence is golden, there are some occasions when it can get you killed,’ Hoshiyar explained patiently.

  Rohan turned silent and looked away. His sudden change in demeanour a clear indication that Hoshiyar had driven home a valid point.

  ‘Where’s the guarantee that if I tell you what I know, I will not be hunted down and killed? Do I have your word that the police will keep me safe?’ Rohan spoke after some delay.

  ‘I give you my word that no harm will come to you. The Special Case Squad will personally look after your safety and rest assured, we will capture the person who attacked you and put him behind bars so that he cannot hurt anyone else,’ Hoshiyar said solemnly.

  ‘All right, Inspector saheb, I will tell you whatever I know, but on the understanding that you will not reveal to anyone where you got this information from,’ Rohan put forth his one and only condition, to which Hoshiyar readily agreed. Feeling reassured, Rohan took a deep breath and was about to begin, but exactly at that moment, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Come in,’ Rohan called out, and two of his most favourite people entered the room, smiling from ear to ear, and carrying a neatly wrapped basket full of expensive fruit.

  ‘So finally my favourite uncle and aunty have found the time to see if I am dead or alive,’ Rohan said playfully as the two went over to him and hugged him warmly. ‘Inspector saheb, I’d like you to meet the illustrious Dr Bimal Seth, the city’s finest cosmetic surgeon, and his equally esteemed wife, Dr Rushali, who is not only one of the best child psychologists in the country, but also the founder of Bal Kalyan, a leading NGO for destitute children,’ he introduced them cheerfully.

  ‘And this gentleman needs no introduction, as the exploits of Inspector Hoshiyar Khan are the stuff of legend. It is an honour to meet you, sir,’ Dr Bimal exclaimed, shaking the good inspector’s hand, who, although sufficiently embarrassed by the praise, still managed to notice the heavyset doctor’s wrench-like grip around his fingers and palm, which surprised him greatly as he had expected the hands of a highly accomplished cosmetic surgeon like Dr Seth’s to be supple and delicate, considering the intricate nature of his vocation. But the immaculately dressed gentleman with the salt-and-pepper hair who stood before him had big, strong hands, like those of a butcher’s, which could snap any man’s neck like a twig, making it a minor miracle in Hoshiyar’s eyes that he was able to practise surgery, let alone do it brilliantly. But the person whose behaviour came across as strange was the elegant Dr Rushali, who when introduced to Hoshiyar by her husband, shook his hand not with warmth or even indifference, but with an odd manner of fear, which she tried her best to conceal behind a half-hearted smile; she then turned away, as if not wanting to have anything to do with the good inspector any further, and began talking to Rohan instead.

  ‘I’ll have you know, young man, that your Bimal uncle and I rushed over here yesterday morning itself, the moment we got to know that you had been admitted, and waited outside the ICU till late evening, but you hadn’t regained consciousness, so don’t you dare go around telling everyone that we don’t have the time for you, understand?’ she laughed and said.

  ‘You got to know yesterday morning itself that Rohan was admitted? That’s rather odd, considering the police themselves got to know about it yesterday afternoon,’ Hoshiyar remarked.

  ‘There is a perfectly plausible explanation for this, Inspector saheb,’ Dr Bimal replied on his wife’s behalf. ‘You see, I was here in the ICU yesterday morning at around nine to check on a patient when I was shocked out of my mind to see Rohan lying unconscious on the bed right next to his. Naturally, I inquired of the doctors on duty what the matter was, then I called my wife. I didn’t think it prudent to inform anyone else since Rohan wouldn’t have been allowed visitors until he was shifted out of the ICU. I certainly hope you’re not implying that Rushali and I had something to do with this attack,’ he stated indignantly.

  ‘I am not implying anything, Dr Seth. I am simply doing my job, by following each and every available lead to its logical conclusion, and in the interest of Rohan’s safety, I’d appreciate your full cooperation,’ Hoshiyar replied calmly.

  ‘Of course, Inspector saheb, that goes without saying. We will help you in whatever way we can to put Rohan’s attacker behind bars. Isn’t that right, Bimal?’ Dr Rushali said, looking at her husband nervously.

  ‘Yes, of course, we’ll cooperate fully. You have our word, Inspector saheb,’ Dr Bimal instantly echoed his wife’s sentiments.

  ‘Bimal uncle, when do you think the doctors will shift me from the ICU into one of the regular rooms? I really hate this place,’ Rohan complained.

  ‘Well, I had a word with Dr Joshi early this morning, and he said that they should be able to move you by late afternoon, depending on how you’re feeling,’ Dr Bimal replied.

  ‘Oh, wow! And did he say when I can go home?’ Rohan asked.

  ‘You’re going to be here for at least two more days, my friend,’ Doctor Bimal informed him.

  ‘Oh, bummer!’ Rohan exclaimed, making a face. ‘Is it at least possible for me to get a nice big room overlooking the beach, preferably with a balcony? It’ll be cool to hang out there for a while in the evenings and have a cup of coffee or something.’ Dr Bimal replied that that could be arranged.

  ‘Oh my God, look at the time! Guess I better get a move on,’ Hoshiyar exclaimed glancing at his watch, then reached into his pocket for his visiting card and handed it to Rohan. ‘Call me when you’re free so that we can finish our earlier conversation. In the meantime, I’ll ask the hospital to provide you with a night nurse to go along with the two police officers that I am posting outside your door, who will check on you night and day, as long as you’re in the hospital.’

  ‘But do you really think so much precaution is necessary? I mean, he is hardly going to come after me in the hospital,’ Rohan reasoned.

  ‘My dear boy, the person who attacked you has also murdered your foster parents, a Mumbai-based private detective and Ram Prasad Tiwari, using methods both cunning and brutal. So with regard to this madman, I am not prepared to take any chances,’ Hoshiyar explained and then bid Rohan goodbye. But just as he was about to exit the room, he stopped in his tracks and turned around, for he suddenly remembered that he had a few routine questions for Dr Bimal as well.

  ‘Tell me, Doctor saheb, do you know anything about Mallika’s family or her past, because we’ve gone over her life with a fine-tooth comb, but have come up with nothing. It’s almost as if she didn’t exist
until about twelve or thirteen years ago. I thought you might be able to tell us something since you and your wife were her closest friends,’ Hoshiyar said.

  ‘Look, Inspector saheb, although it’s true that Mallika was extremely close to us, we ourselves got to know her around the time she won the Miss India title thirteen years ago, so we don’t know that much about her past. But what we do know is that her maiden name was Chaudhary and she was originally from Hyderabad. Her father passed away when she was just a baby and her mother died shortly before she turned eighteen, after which Mallika came to Mumbai in search of work, and because of her good looks, got a break in the modelling industry. From whatever she told us, it was evident that she was an only child and had no other relatives. I believe her childhood was difficult, because of which she didn’t like talking about her past and that made her come across as an enigma to millions of people,’ Dr Bimal explained.

  ‘And what can you tell me about Nikhil Kapoor? Because, strange as it may sound, his background is also unknown,’ Hoshiyar remarked.

  ‘There again, Inspector saheb, we won’t be able to tell you too much, as we only got to know Nikhil after his marriage to Mallika, around ten years ago. But I remember he once told us that he was from Mussoorie and had lost his entire family in a train accident when he was just a boy of nineteen,’ Dr Bimal revealed.

  ‘And where did this accident happen, did he tell you?’ Hoshiyar asked.

  ‘No, he didn’t mention that,’ Dr Bimal replied.

  ‘And what about his next of kin? Did he tell you anything about them?’

  ‘No, I am afraid he didn’t.’

  ‘All right, Doctor saheb, did he tell you anything about his family’s line of work or where exactly they lived in Mussoorie?’

  ‘No, Inspector saheb. All he said was that he was from Mussoorie and had lost his entire family in a train accident when he was nineteen. After hearing this, I could hardly ask him any questions about his past, background or home, now, could I?’

  At this reply delivered in a raised, angry tone, Hoshiyar gave the doctor a stern, piercing glare, causing the latter to realize his transgression and quietly look away.

  ‘Do you at least know how you and Mallika met?’ Hoshiyar then asked his final question.

  ‘It was at the Miss India contest in Mumbai,’ Dr Rushali replied on her husband’s behalf. ‘Bimal and I were both judges that year at the pageant, and Mallika was just another fresh-faced contestant. But there was something about her that stood out and made us become instantly fond of her. It was her eyes, Inspector. They were just like Chandni’s. Mallika had our daughter’s eyes.’ She smiled.

  Much later that day, in fact, in the dead of night, when all the other officers had long gone home and even the bustling Carter Road wore a deserted look, Hoshiyar, having finished his dinner, sat in front of the computer at the SCS headquarters and googled the name Chandni Seth, along with everything about her there was to know. It was then that he discovered that Chandni was Bimal’s and Rushali’s only daughter, who on a family holiday to Goa to bring in the new year met with a horrific accident while driving her father’s BMW at great speed along a relatively empty stretch of road, on New Year’s Eve. It was reported that twenty-year-old Chandni took her father’s car for a joyride without informing her parents and got into a drag race with a few of her friends along that stretch of road, during which she fatally lost control of the vehicle. But the Web report also stated that during the accident, Chandni’s car had hit a small child and a couple of teenagers, killing all three of them instantly. There was a photograph of the slain couple, along with their names and age; the boy was nineteen-year-old Ravindra Phogat, while the girl, one Sakshi Phogat, was seventeen, although she appeared much older in the photograph, owing to the fact that she was obese, which always makes people appear older than they actually are. There was one more photograph on display, that of Chandni herself, who came across as attractive and vivacious, a young life taken too soon courtesy her own recklessness. And in that photo, Hoshiyar could clearly see that her eyes were indeed hazel, and very much like Mallika Kapoor’s. It was also mentioned that Chandni’s friends, who were racing with her, ran away from the scene without helping her or the other victims. And right from 31 December 1997, which was the night it all happened, to the present day, no one had a clue as to their identity. After carefully going through that information, and saving what he considered relevant, Hoshiyar began to scour the various websites dedicated to Bollywood news, parties and events, in the hope of finding video clippings and photographs taken by the horde of media persons and even the paparazzi, who had descended upon Billimoria House last year on the tenth of December when Nikhil had thrown a grand party on the occasion of his birthday, which was graced by superstars from each and every field. By viewing the footage from the party, Hoshiyar hoped to determine the comings and goings of all the guests that evening, which he believed would give him some sort of a clue as to who among them stayed back for the after-party card game which took place much later that night, in Nikhil’s private study. But a thorough examination of those images revealed nothing of significance, as the constant to and fro of luxury sedans and SUVs, coupled with the chaos unleashed by the camerapersons and photographers whenever a car entered or exited Billimoria House, made it impossible for Hoshiyar to determine which celebrities were still at the party and which ones had left. So, Hoshiyar decided to adopt a different approach. Aside from Ram Prasad Tiwari, since Nikhil had no friends that anyone knew of, the good inspector felt that perhaps investigating the people he had begun his career with, and the individuals he had worked with most recently, was the only way by which he could discover the identity of Nikhil’s guests that night at his card game, who were all a part of the same clique and Nikhil’s long-time friends. But it was a friendship that all of them had kept secret, the reason for which Hoshiyar believed was directly linked to Nikhil’s murder. As Hoshiyar began to probe along those lines, a few essential pieces of the puzzle began to fall in place and a pattern started to emerge.

  A decade ago, Ishan Malhotra, the adopted son of the late movie mogul O.P. Malhotra, debuted as a film producer under his illustrious father’s banner, Karma Films, with a small-budget movie called Pyaar Kar Ke Dekho, in which Nikhil Kapoor, as director, Sameer Ali Khan, as actor, Kiki Fernandez, as fashion stylist, and Ram Prasad Tiwari, as secretary, also made their debuts. But after that successful first outing, only Nikhil and Tiwari continued their association, while the rest of them strangely went their separate ways and never worked together again. But in 2013, they collaborated once more, when Ishan produced a big-budget action film, titled Raka, which Nikhil directed, Sameer Ali starred in, Kiki did the styling for and Tiwari, as usual, was around as Nikhil’s secretary. But this time, however, there was no Mallika Kapoor opposite Sameer Ali Khan. Instead, Ishan had selected a young, rising star, Nyra Oberoi, as the heroine. Now, although trade pundits unanimously agreed that Mallika was not the right choice for Raka’s leading lady, because she had become too big a star to be used as a prop or the glam quotient in a big-ticket masala film, where all the heroine had to do was look gorgeous and dance around trees, they were left stunned by the casting of Nyra Oberoi, because, back then, she wasn’t big enough to even be considered for a walk-on in the hottest project to come out of Bollywood in years. In fact, leading up to Raka, her filmography was promising, but not explosive. It was rumoured that she had caught the eye of Sameer Ali Khan when she debuted on the ramp at Kiki Fernandez’s fashion show, after which Bollywood’s number one star had used his clout to help her bag two films, both of which did reasonably well at the box office. But in spite of a promising start, no one in their wildest dreams expected her to be selected as the leading lady for Raka, firstly because she wasn’t an A-lister as yet, and secondly, on account of everything that was going on behind the scenes. Now, it is a well-known fact in Bollywood that while most leading men tend to get along with each other just fine, the leading ladies, irre
spective of what they say in their interviews and how they behave if ever brought together on the same chat show, can’t stand the sight of one another. In fact, it’s not uncommon for even established heroines to go to war if one feels that the other is trying to poach her hairdresser or steal her designer. And leading ladies are also known to be extremely territorial about certain film-makers with whom they’ve shared a successful professional relationship, even if it is just over a single film. So much so that if any such lady even gets a hint that some other actress is making moves on her director, to get him to cast her in his next movie, this act isn’t just considered a grave violation of territory, but an open declaration of war, which will, undoubtedly, put the hapless director smack in the middle of the action, with the warring damsels firing at each other off his shoulder. And God forbid, if the director ever chooses the Jenny-come-lately over his former leading lady; the spurned actress, when quizzed about this betrayal in an interview or on a talk show, will simply smile sweetly and say that both she and the director are professionals and both of them are free to work with whoever they want to and if the right script comes along, then of course, they will work together again. But hard-core Bollywood watchers who can read between the lines will tell you that what the lady really means is that she is hopping mad at the director for his betrayal and the only way he can make it up to her is by writing for her a role to die for. Now, this happens in Bollywood on a regular basis, with leading ladies competing with each other for your run-of-the-mill big-budget films. But when it came to Raka, the stakes were ten times as high, for Nikhil Kapoor, Sameer Ali Khan and Ishan Malhotra were teaming up after all those years, making it the most happening project in Bollywood history; so needless to say, every A-list leading lady was ready to get as low-down and dirty as need be to worm her way on board. In other words, the moment it was announced that the search for Raka’s heroine had begun, all the top actresses swung into action immediately, first up with the direct approach, which was by picking up their cellphones and calling the three men in charge, namely the producer, the director and the hero, telling them how badly they wanted to be a part of the project, and how they’d do ‘anything’ for the heroine’s role. After this, the ladies dropped by to meet the men in question, with some of them landing up at their offices unannounced, while the rest fixed meetings with them at some coffee shop or the other, in order to impress upon them in person their absolute need to be a part of their magnum opus. Once the ladies had done their bit, it was time for their publicists and PR people to take over, who went to town splashing the news about the meetings in every entertainment supplement worth its salt, in which each heroine’s camp claimed that their actress was the front runner for the coveted role, but very smartly had the papers credit all of this news to unofficial sources so that the makers of Raka could not blame the actresses for any premature announcements. The aftermath of this news predictably triggered media frenzy, during which the actresses were questioned by the press whether they were actually in the running for the heroine’s role, to which all the ladies very cleverly downplayed the news spread by their own people, by saying that their meetings with the makers of Raka were mere courtesy calls, but they would consider it a great honour if they got the chance to be associated with the biggest film ever made in Bollywood. With this said, the ladies rounded off their interviews by praising Nikhil, Ishan and Sameer to the skies. With this accomplished, the ladies moved on to the final step in bagging that dream role, which was cutting each other out of the running, by the use of the tried-and-tested underhand tactic, which involved having their PR people supply the newspapers with negative bits of gossip about their rivals. But unfortunately for the lovely ladies, their behind-the-scenes manipulations and overtly aggressive lobbying backfired, because the powers that be associated with Raka wisely decided not to get caught up in a catfight between Bollywood’s A-list actresses; so they stunned the entire film fraternity by choosing the lesser-known Nyra Oberoi, who was regarded as strictly B-plus and so, many believed, too small a fry to play the female lead opposite Bollywood’s number one superstar Sameer Ali Khan, that too in a film produced by Ishan ‘Midas’ Malhotra and directed by the one and only Nikhil Kapoor. The naysayers said that her casting was a monumental blunder and it could, in all probability, sink the mighty ship named Raka. But Raka smashed box office records and created Hindi cinema history, becoming the first Bollywood film to cross the 400-crore mark, earning great praise not only for its director and leading man, but also for its heroine, catapulting Nyra straight into the A-list and into the reckoning of people as Bollywood’s future queen.